


Trickery

by Welsper



Category: Final Fantasy XII
Genre: Established Relationship, Incest, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:00:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22025215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Welsper/pseuds/Welsper
Summary: Larsa thinks he has just the thing to get out of his language lessons.
Relationships: Larsa Ferrinas Solidor/Vayne Carudas Solidor
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12
Collections: New Year's Sins Flash Exchange





	Trickery

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nan/gifts).



“What is this?” Vayne asked, waving the stack of papers in front of Larsa’s face.

“Dalmascan?” Larsa offered, a look on his face that was clearly masked guilt. He was a clever boy, but Vayne knew him better than anyone. Whatever kind smiles and pleasantries fooled insipid senators and Judges and anyone else Larsa felt like tricking would never work on Vayne.

“Which gutter of Dalmasca do they speak this in? Where did you pick these words up?” 

Vayne narrowed his eyes at the vernacular present in Larsa’s coursework. It sounded plebeian. 

“Did you run off with those sky pirates again? Still losing your guards at every corner you turn will be seen as nothing but shirking your responsibilities.”

“It’s how normal people talk.”

“Oh, I shall have you draft the apology letters for the Bahamut’s shell leaking into the groundwater with your delightful new vocabulary, let us see how well that goes,” Vayne scoffed, but his face immediately softened when he saw the hurt on Larsa’s face. He reached out, and found himself pleased when Larsa did not draw back from his touch.

“Forgive me. I had not meant to hurt you.” Vayne placed a hand on the small of Larsa’s back and pulled his brother towards himself. He smiled when Larsa easily followed. Larsa was not one to hold grudges and it amazed Vayne, how easily he could forgive. Even someone like him. Larsa was the only kind thing this rotten house had ever produced, the only good thing.

“I know,” Larsa said, climbed on his lap and laid his head on Vayne’s shoulder. Vayne wanted to sigh in content, for this was bliss, but he settled for pressing a kiss on Larsa’s soft hair instead.

“There is something to be said for understanding how common folk think, Larsa. But you are not a common man,” Vayne said, “and you must not let people believe you are. People will mistake your kindness for weakness.”

As he once had.

“Politicians require a different tongue than sky pirates. Now go over this again and I will pretend I did not notice where you went.”

For the fracture of a second, Vayne found himself frozen when Larsa pressed a kiss to his lips.

“I would rather not,” Larsa said and shifted in Vayne’s lap, straddling his thighs. Vayne immediately set down pen and papers on his desk and wrapped his arms around the small form of his brother.

“Then what would you have?” Vayne had once been careful to mask the want in his own voice, although he was now certain he had fooled Larsa as little as Larsa could fool him. And Vayne did not mind that. There was one person in the world he truly cared for, he truly wanted to be known by in every way.

“Touch me,” Larsa whispered and Vayne could feel the hair on his skin raise and his cock harden. He treasured every moment with Larsa, especially now with the Empire in such turmoil. And those moments Larsa allowed him this were especially sweet.

He saw Larsa’s lips curl upwards in half a smile, those soft lips Vayne could kiss all day, bite until Larsa whimpered and shuddered. Those lips he wanted to hear moan and scream his name. For now, he leaned forward and claimed his mouth, cherishing in Larsa’s pleased gasp. Slight arms slid around his neck and held him close.

Vayne could feel Larsa hard through his thin leggings as he thrust his tongue into Larsa’s mouth, drinking in his sweet taste. He knew he should not, but what he had once denied himself he no longer did these days, not with Larsa so eagerly returning the kiss. Not with his little brother softly moaning as he ground his hips against Vayne’s, giving their cocks pressed against another through layers of fabric only the slightest bit of relief. Not with Larsa’s tiny voice gasping “Please,” as Vayne palmed his erection after pulling down the smooth fabric.

Larsa shuddered and pressed into his touch when Vayne ran a hand up his shirt, tracing his stomach and the ribs beneath. Wispy and soft and fragile beneath his hands and yet Larsa was anything but. Vayne loved everything he was and would be.

Nobody else would ever be allowed to touch this perfect, pale skin, nobody else would ever get to hear these soft cries and pleas. Vayne wanted for nothing but this, his brother in his arms, surrendering himself to Vayne’s and his own desires. Vayne wanted everything Larsa would give him, he wanted to give everything to Larsa.

Larsa thrust into his hand, slick now and Vayne did not stop him when his brother unlaced his trousers and wrapped his hand around his cock. Pale cheeks were flushed, soft hair stuck to sweating skin and Vayne longed to see Larsa utterly undone.

He leaned forward to press kisses on the damp skin of Larsa’s throat, his brother’s breath catching with every rake of his teeth. The rhythm with which Larsa moved his hand on his cock faltered and his hips moved faster. It was then Vayne bit down hard and Larsa spilled with a cry. Vayne kept stroking him, revelling in the pulse of Larsa’s cock before he was through and slumped against him.

“I love you,” Larsa whispered and Vayne closed his eyes, groaning as those words tipped him over the edge. When he looked up again, Larsa smiled at him, open and gentle and beautiful.

Vayne cleaned them up and Larsa made no move to get up afterwards, dangling his slender legs. When he pulled Larsa’s shirt and tunic back into place, heat flared through him when he saw the bruise from his bite bloom on the white skin. Larsa raised a hand to it and smiled.

Vayne almost felt bad for what he had to do next.

The smile turned crestfallen when Larsa was handed his forgotten homework.

“Now do that properly, or I shall have Venat teach you Occurian. Did you know it has sixty-seven verb tenses?”

Vayne laughed as Larsa muffled a frustrated groan at his shoulder.


End file.
